Trois Fois
by VirendraLione
Summary: Our favourite story teller meets a young woman newly arrived in Paris. She is uncertain of the future and is running from her past. Luckily, Clopin has the means to set her mind at ease and give her a glimpse of the future she so fears. Rated T for safety (but, I don't think there is anything in it). Clopin x OC. Other characters may also appear later on. Haven't decided yet.


_**My sincerest apologies for my starting yet another fic. I could not help it; this particular plot bunny was quite persuasive and just so happened to possess a set of vicious teeth which it employed often until I finally relented. **_

_**Anyway, this here is an unabashed session of Clopin fangirling. I never realised what a brilliant character he is (don't blame me, I was young when first I watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame and it is entirely possible I was unable to understand it fully), but after re-watching the film recently, he has stolen my heart completely.**_

_**And so, I offer you this; a short fic (possibly stretching a mere five chapters) about Clopin in which I pay homage to a truly epic character.**_

_**By the way, please do let me know if I have gotten anything wrong with the French language or Clopin's character or anything else for that matter. I would be more than happy to correct any mistakes. That said, I do not appreciate flames and any such comments will be deleted without response. **_

_**Hope you like this! I'll let to get to reading it now!**_

* * *

**Trois Fois.**

**Disclaimer: (Almost forgot this again) **_I do not own The Hunchback of Notre Dame or any of the recognisable characters I may use or mention in this here fanfiction. I am merely borrowing them for my own amusement. _

_**Our favourite storyteller meets a young woman newly arrived in Paris. She is doubtful of her future and hers is a past she would rather forget. Clopin listens to her story and offers her a glimpse of the future she so fears.**_

**Chapter one.**

Usually, people with secrets arrived at night, the shroud of darkness concealing them so that they may avoid one of cloth a while longer. But hers was not a nocturnal venture, no; she came with the mid-morning peal, against the procession of merchants and amidst a large group of people on their way to Notre Dame. All the while, very much alone.

Perhaps that is why she stood out to him.

He had found himself with a rare interlude between assemblies of children gathering to hear his stories, a few minutes of respite wherein he might fill his grumbling stomach, or seek out a cup of wine to stay the zephyrs fresh with the pastel dawns of thawing winter. Stowing his puppets and props carefully, he slipped a painted placard declaring his temporary absence into the opening and headed for the boulangerie, a single gold coin pirouetting on his deft fingertips as he walked.

Catching sight of the pilgrims, and never one to miss a chance to show-off, he took the coin in his teeth and, with a spritely skip, tumbled onto his hands. The action was met with a mixture of disdain and awe and he padded along with the throng a few paces, before righting himself with a flourish and a bow. There was a thin applause, but any who might have afforded him some coin for his efforts were lost amongst the procession.

He turned with a breath, resolved not to let the disinterest dampen his spirits and it was then that he saw her.

She had halted, it seemed, to watch his acrobatics and, now that the horde had moved along, lingered to ascertain if he might perform further antics. She was smiling but this was a timid, apprehensive expression, almost as if she was fearful that the action might be punished. Nevertheless, even this smallest mien illuminated her delicate features, set her azure eyes aglow and seemed to somewhat alleviate the invisible weight resting on her shoulders.

Favouring the young woman's countenance and wishing to see more of her smile, he stowed the coin, took a step closer and bent at the waist, arms outstretched. He waited a second or two, stole a further momentary glance at his only audience member and then leapt into a backwards somersault. For an instant, he was weightless and the usually mundane rue was suddenly inverted, rushing towards, over and away from him. There was a fleeting glimpse of his brightly coloured cart and then the navy blue of his spectator's heavy mantle.

He gathered his wherewithal with less than a second to spare, found the damp cobblestones with gloved palms. Once grounded, he walked a small circle on his hands, before coming to a stop before the young woman. Spurred on by her applause, he shifted his bodyweight slightly, before raising his right hand from the ground and balancing solely on his left palm. He remained like this for a few moments more and then he hopped away from the woman so as not to accidentally strike her should he fall.

As soon as he was a safe enough distance from his onlooker, he curved his back and brought his feet down over his head. Righting himself once again, he straightened slowly and, before long, was standing with arms extended in a gesture of triumphant pride. He removed his cornflower blue hat, laid it across his chest and bowed low, rising with a wide grin at the woman's selfless avowals of 'Bravo!' and 'Tres bien!'

Once he had regained his upright position, he returned his hat to his head and approached his impromptu spectator.

'Merci, mademoiselle, you are most kind.'

Her hand disappeared into the folds of her cloak a moment and reappeared with fingers curled defensively around a petite object. He watched attentively as she outstretched her arm and held it between them for a few seconds. Miscomprehension furrowed his brow and slowed his movements, but this was dispelled as the young woman laughed.

'Hold out your hand.' She instructed gently. He did so, manoeuvring a flattened palm beneath the woman's own extended appendage. A coin dropped with a dull clink, the noise softened by the leather of his glove.

Deftly he rolled the golden disc to the heel of his hand and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it somersaulting into the air between them. As it began to descend, heading for the unctuous ground underfoot, he swiftly snatched it from the air and held it with finger and thumb. He felt his smile widen as the young woman's eyes lit up at the exploit.

He responded with a shake of his head and made to hand the money back to her, 'Once again, mademoiselle, thank you…but I could not take this from you; your smile is all the payment I require.'

She reached out as if she were going to accept the coin, but instead, took his hand in her own, curling his fingers around the piece of gold. Her touch was soft and delicate, something easily broken by a swift strike to her wrist, and yet he found his own digits unable to resist her guidance.

She held his clenched fist for a moment, looked up at him, 'Please take it…you have made a trying day a little less difficult to bear and for that, I thank you.'

Intrigue summoned a series of interrogative questions to the tip of his tongue, but in the interest of civility, he banished them swiftly.

'In that case…' he began, the coin vanishing to join a small collection of others in a leather pouch at his belt, '…you are most welcome. Though, I'm afraid you have offered me too much in payment for such simple acrobatics. With that in mind, allow me to offer you my name in recompense.'

He bowed once again, but given that the action was not as low as his previous efforts, was able to maintain eye contact with the woman. He lifted her palm, all at once startled at the chill he felt in it, even despite his gloves, and brushed his lips gently against her knuckles.

'Clopin Trouillefou, at your service.'

'Heureux de vous rencontrer, Clopin. My name is Aurore Le Masurier.' The woman replied, instinctively, giving a nod in confirmation that unsettled her lengthy brunette tresses.

Though it was obvious that the introduction had been offered politely, Clopin was forced to give a short laugh in disbelief and loose Aurore's hand. He placed his hands on his hips and allowed his gaze to find the cobblestones a moment, half registering the woman's tentative step towards him.

'Mademoiselle, I grow wary of your motives…' Clopin affected uncertainty, visibly recoiling from Aurore's advance. This, it seemed, was enough to stop her and an icy guilt ensconced him as he caught a flash of terror in the woman's eyes. He watched further as she dropped her gaze and half-turned to walk away from him.

Not yet wishing to see her leave, he continued, this time a more jovial tone present in his voice, 'Are you really so loathe to free me of my debt?'

Aurore raised an eyebrow, tentatively turned back to face Clopin. He rewarded her with a chuckle and set a forefinger to his chin in a pantomime of mock deliberation. After a moment or two, he appeared to have reached a conclusion and all at once reached out for her. She started at this sudden movement, but found herself relaxing a little as he lay a soothing arm across her shoulders.

'Come!' He chimed spritely, leading her towards his wagon, but steering her left just before they reached it, 'There is something else I might offer!'

* * *

_**There you have it! I hope it was alright and I hope I managed to keep Clopin in character. **_

_**I would love to know what you think of this so please do leave a review if you have the time and inclination. Even if you don't, I thank you for clicking and I hope to see you again for the upcoming chapters. **_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**\- Vi**_


End file.
